


Gloved

by MiniNephthys



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colm thinks leather looks good on Neimi.  Kink Bingo, for the square "leather/latex/rubber."  September 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gloved

Most of Neimi's clothes are pretty cute, Colm thinks.

Her headband is an obvious choice. It hides under her hair, only visible in the middle of her forehead. Helps her keep that familiar tuft of hair - it droops more when she's without it, he's seen.

Her shirt is next. Red and pink, the soft hood usually rests over her back, looking more like a scarf.

The skirt is definitely cute, especially paired with her leggings underneath. Two of the three belts that cover it serve no purpose other than to confuse her when she's taking it off - "it's just habit," she says when he asks why she wears them.

Even her shoes are pretty cute. A lightish brown, much daintier than his own boots.

But what has to be cutest about her clothes is the leather. Colm can't explain exactly why. Something about that gauntlet with the falcon embroidery, that long sleeve, the shoulder guard... They all bring a small smile to his face when he thinks of them on her. They set off the outfit, or something like that.

Though privately, he thinks he wouldn't mind seeing her in just the leather accessories... (That thought makes him need to take a long dunk in a cold river.) Well. Some things are just hard to put into words.

Nothing really comes of his affection for her clothing for quite some time. He teases her, she gets misty-eyed, he is forced to apologize, life goes on. If he knew how cute he thought she was, she would - do... something. Maybe cry again. Or never speak to him again. Something like that.

One day, though, late into the War of the Stones, Colm gets injured. In retrospect, stealing the dragonshield from that berserker may not have been the greatest idea if nobody else was around to kill him quickly afterward. Neimi rushes across the river to him, dispatching anyone who blocks her path, and tends to his wounds with a vulnerary.

"Riding over to heal people is L'Arachel's job," he reminds her, leaning on her a little for support while he can. "You could've gotten really hurt there, you know."

Neimi looks chastened. "I-I know. It's just, you were hurt and I... forgot about me. If that makes any sense. If something happened to you, it doesn't really matter-"

"You idiot." He smacks her on the back of the head. "Do you know how many people'd cry if something happened to you? I'm not that important."

"You- oh, hold on." She shoots the wyvern rider approaching them. " _I'd_ cry if you were killed..."

"You cry at everything. You'd get over it," Colm replies, slashing into the side of another soldier.

She glares. "No I wouldn't!"

"Well I wouldn't get over losing you!" He pauses. "...maybe we should talk about this off the battlefield."

"R-right..."

Later, in Colm's tent, they don't really talk so much as stare at each other awkwardly before Colm gives up and kisses her.

Somewhere in their tangle of fumbling limbs they manage to get undressed, except - "Could you keep on the gloves?" he asks, suddenly embarrassed. "They're, uh, cute."

Neimi blinks at him, before offering a warm smile. "Whatever you say."

They press into each other's hands, gasping and groaning until they're finally finished. Afterwards, he throws his cloak over them.

She sighs happily. "I've always really liked your cloak."

"Really?" Colm asks. "Huh."


End file.
